Someday Far in the Future
by Big Bad John
Summary: The only time Akira discussed Sai with Hikaru he was told he’d have to wait until someday far in the future before Hikaru would tell him the truth. Has that day arrived and is now really the best time? Chapter 4 up! This story is COMPLETE!
1. The room

As I'm sure you can guess I don't own Hikaru No Go, nor do I own any other copyrights I may inadvertently infringe on. Got that? Good.

This is my first HNG fic and I'm sure this scenario has been done before, I hope I can do it in such a way as to keep it at least semi fresh.

The hotel was located in a nice area in the center of the city, the hotel itself was nice and fitted in with its surroundings, well, nicely. It attracted nice cliental, mainly quiet people who kept to themselves. Although it was a nice enough place to do so it didn't manage to attract anyone who, the management believed, wouldn't fit in. Roundy rock bands on tour weren't given the opportunity to trash the suites on the top floor, petulant actors filming on location weren't given the opportunity to be overly demanding to the hotel staff, which suited them nicely. However, this didn't change the fact that occasionally people of minor note (to some people at least) would find themselves staying there. Currently staying were two high-flyers of the go world preparing to start the fight over the prestigious Mejin title the very next day. The hotel management didn't really mind people like that, the only extra hassle the hotel had to deal with was one journalist from Weekly-Go and his photographer, not exactly a logistical nightmare. Moreover the hotels clientele were, by and large, the sort who considered the chance to spot a professional Go player, and one in the upper echelons of the game at that, a nice bonus, to a nice stay, in a nice hotel.

"Seriously, this hotel is just too, too…"

"Nice?" Akira tried to guess what Hikaru would have said had he been able to put his finger on it.

"Yes, it's just too, fuckin' nice." The words were not said in a complimentary way.

"Well, I like it."

"You would." He hadn't meant it as an insult but that didn't change the fact that it sounded like one.

"And what it that supposed to mean?"

Hikaru rolled his eyes, he'd been friends with Akira for years, pretty much since they had started running in the same circles. At the time it had seemed like an easy choice, they could be friendly rivals, or they could be bitter rivals and neither wanted the other as an enemy, life provides too many of those of its own accord. This didn't change the fact that Hikaru still liked taking the piss out of Akira's natural predisposition the conservative dress (Hikaru only dressed like that when he absolutely had to).

For his part Akira didn't see what the problem was, but then he just didn't understand why Hikaru saw his yearning for the quiet life as a dull, bad thing, something for which he should be made to feel ashamed. Hikaru's voice pulled him from these thoughts.

"You know damn well what that means, tomorrow we have to start one of the most important games of our lives, against each other no less and you're not even making the slightest bit of an effort to loosen up and relax, at least take that neck tie off, please."

"Loosen up, relax" A note of incredulity was becoming more evident in Akira's voice. "This is about as relaxed as I get, I should be in my own room studying the records of our previous games."

"Yea, and even when you were all alone in your own room I bet you'd still be wearing that damn tie. Face it you're here trying to pass yourself off as relaxed for the same reason I suggested we just watch some TV anyway. We're as ready as we'll ever be, I know your game inside out and vice versa."

Akira got the impression that Hikaru must have been the type of person who only started studying for exams the night before, or, just as often, not at all. Akira had gotten used to Hikarus constant jibes about his dress sense long ago. Hikaru was currently lounging in a deep arm chair in a pair of old shorts and a t-shirt, a man completely at peace, Akira never felt right unless he looked just so. He didn't however feel there was any need for Hikaru belittle him for this.

Hikaru, as if reading Akira's mind turned to him wearily "Look, theirs no need to take it all seriously, I think I've known you long enough to know that you are incapable of looking normal." He sat back and flicked through a few channels on the TV set. "Well if it makes you feel any better theirs nothing good on TV."

"Why should that make me feel any better?" Akira asked

"Because that means you get to come out with me and have a drink."

"Lucky me." The sarcasm was dripping from his voice.

Hikaru however was determined that the evening would not descend in to either of the two scenarios he had feared. One was that they'd sit around listlessly and Akira would head to his room early and they would each try and get an early night, Hikaru restless because he hadn't successfully taken his mind of the coming game, Akira restless because he would feel like he wasted his time in not preparing for the match. Under these circumstances neither would get much sleep and both would be the worse for it. The other was that cheerful goading would spill into one of the arguments, now quite notorious in the go world, which although they had decreased in frequency the older they got still managed to produce the same indignant anger they had both felt towards each other back in the days of after school games in the Go salon when every day seemed to end with Hikaru storming out, only to return the next day when neither could really remember what they were arguing about. If this happened they would both stay up until the small hours feverously studying the others past games in an attempt to gain an edge. Neither would get much sleep and they would both be the worse for it.

The fact was there was a huge anticipation for this game. In the many years that they had been playing go neither Hikaru or Akira had made it to the final of the Mejin tournament, both had seen other titles come, and go, but never the Mejin. That's not to say that this was for lack of trying, every year the tournament had progressed to its latter stages at least one of them had been there, only every time either had made it to the semi (which was every time so far, but never against each other, oddly enough) something had happened to thwart their chances. These had ranged form the tragic (one year Akira's farther had had a second hart attack, this one fatal, another year Hikaru's wife had suffered a miscarriage and obviously neither really had there harts in there subsequent games after that.) To the mildly comical, like the year Hikaru had eaten something that disagreed with him the night before and had spent most of the night feeling like hell. The next day he felt groggy and his lack of sleep showed, he lost that game and didn't manage to recover.

This year, they hoped, would be different, the current holder of the title had retired in a way similar to Akira's farther all those years ago. The tournament, it was decided would be restructured slightly, with no title holder for the duration and the winner of the final being awarded the title.

Hikaru was actually starting wondering weather somebody, or something, was trying to tell him something. The coincidences involved in this turn of events seemed astronomically unlikely. Weekly Go had run an article when they had both made it to the final detailing the history of what they called 'The curse of the Mejin title.' They didn't explain why anyone else had been affected by this so called curse, but it had filled a few column inches and, when all the weird happenings were stacked side by side it did make interesting reading.

All of this was weighing heavy on the mind of Akira, one day from starting to fulfill his promise to his farther and lifting the title that he had held for so long and his friend wanted to irresponsibly go out for a drink. What he didn't realize was that Hikaru had problems of his own.

Hikaru had once told Akira that one day he would tell his friend the whole story, Sai and Hikarus mystery go skills and his even more mystifying loss of them. Not to mention his incredibly fast apparent re-learning of the game. However to his eternal credit apart from that one initial outburst at the institute Akira had never brought the subject up. Although Hikaru was beginning to think that if he was ever to get the burden of his chest now was probably a good time. He was sure something was pulling the strings and now, somehow felt appropriate.

"Well, are you coming or not?"

It was a question but Hikaru know fine well Akira would come along. Hikaru had long ago realized that Akira, despite where it had gotten him had a little part of himself that resented his gift at go. When everybody else his age was enjoying there youth he was always studying go. By the time his would be contemporizes had become students and were having the times of there lives he was already in a full time job. Going to the pub for a drink with some mates was one of the simple pleasures of life he had missed out on, and despite the importance of tomorrow Hikaru knew that his friend wouldn't miss the chance to try and make up for that somehow. Especially if he just say he was going anyway then up and left.

"You can do what you want, I'm going." He pulled on an old pair of jeans, gave his t-shirt a sniff and decided it was ok, grabbed his trainers and headed for the lift, as he expected Akira followed him, even if it was with a certain sense of resignation.

Well that's chapter 1, hope all who read it enjoyed it. If you have the time please review, comments are always very, very welcome.

Big Bad John


	2. The pub

Ok, here we are, Chapter 2. I had wanted to update this sooner but things got in the way, namely life itself. At least that sounds like a better excuse then the fact that I wasn't quite sure where I was going with this, at least now I roughly know what I want to do with it.

To all those who reviewed, cheers, epically since you all said something nice although SGL, you are the first person to ever say they couldn't understand my writing. As you say my spelling aint the best but I spell check everything. I think it might be that your American (I'm just assuming this but then I'm sure the majority of people who write HNG fan-fic on the internet are) and I'm not (I'm Scottish) so it could be that I'm using colloquial construction your not totally used too, or something like that. Either way I'm glad you understood enough to enjoy it.

And what fin intro would be complete without my saying that I don't own any of what I'm writing about, ah well. And if that's everything, let's get on with it.

Hikaru pressed the button for the ground floor and lent against one of the inside walls of the empty lift.

"I really don't approve of this you know." Akira reminded Hikaru that he was here strictly under protest.

"Of course I know that, I know you remember, and you always wave your disapproval like a burning flag."

"Well I'm only coming to make sure you don't get yourself into too much of a state tonight."

"Thanks for the concern dad, but this is just a social drink, don't get the wrong idea, were not going on a bender."

Akira, who'd never been on a 'bender' in life still couldn't help but fire off one parting shot. "Even so, I don't want you to make this too easy for me, where would be the honor in beating a hung-over opponent."

Hikaru rolled his eyes and considered saying something scathing, and probably would have but at that moment the lift juddered to a halt a good few floors above ground level. The lift accepted its new passengers, also headed for the ground floor, and Hikaru decided to lay off now they weren't alone. They completed the journey downward in that weird brand of lift silence that seems to cover everything, everyone looking at everyone else, but never in the eye.

Upon entering the foyer Akira started to stride in the direction indicated by a sign reading 'hotel bar'.

"No" Hikaru nudged Akira in the direction of the front doors instead

"Why, what's wrong with the hotel bar?"

"Disinterested staff who've probably been briefed on who we are and as a result will try and be overly nice but just come of as overbearing. Lonely businessmen trying to kill time. No dark corners, no atmosphere. That enough wrong for you"

It was now Akira's turn to roll his eyes, why did everything have to be unique? What was wrong with the occasional homogenized experience? At least they wouldn't have had to go very far. However Hikaru was having none of it and was already pushing open the door to the outside world. Akira walked through the door his friend held open for him and together they started walking down the street the hotel sat at the top of.

"Hmm, big city like this, should find somewhere in no time." He muttered almost to himself.

"Can't we just find somewhere and get on with it?"

"I'm trying to find somewhere."

"We've passed three places already."

"Have we, well they must not have stood out very well then."

"Stood out, I thought you were looking for darkened atmosphere not blazing lights, now you say you want some blazing lights."

"Only on the outside."

"Hummph."

They continued on in silence, Hikaru wondering this way and that, down side-streets and up ally ways. Finally he came to a stop outside a rather non descript door set in a wall in which nestled a window showing the interior of the type of pub which are ten a penny in any city in the world if you know where to look.

It wasn't an old mans pub, the kind of place where everybody's known, the kind of place where, if you weren't a local, people would go out of there way to let you know you weren't actually welcome there without being outright confrontational, the kind of place which only serves one drink, 'the usual'. But it had shades of it. Old regulars huddled around the bar, people who looked like they had been going there for an age, people who, in short ordered by asking for 'the regular'.

And neither was it a student bar, but again one could see shades of that. Tables in the corners were filled with the students who had chosen to attend university in the city in which they grew up. The kind of place they would have discovered when taking there first forays into the world of night-life. And through this strange combination of clientele the place survived.

Hikaru and Akira shuffled up to an unoccupied end of the bar and sat down. Hikaru looked up too catch the barmaid's eye.

"What's it to be guys?"

Hikaru looked up. "Whisky, Scottish. Ardbeg if you've got it, The Macallan if you don't, failing those anything you got so long as it's a single malt. Bring two with a glass of ice on the side, please."

"Ordering for me now?

"Just trying to expand your horizons."

"I never thought you'd be an appreciator of whisky, especially the expensive kind."

"You saying I'm low brow, I doubt you could tell and Islay for a Spayside."

"I can't say I've ever had the desire, how do you know so much about it anyway?"

"I'd just lost a match, important one as well, in fact," Hikaru suppressed a slight smile "it was the first one of the losses that saw me leave the later stages of the Mejin tournament. I staggered form the venue and found the first bar I could, I needed a drink badly. Anyway it was a specialist whisky bar. Had a weird name, as yes 'Uisge beatha'.

"What?"

"It's Gaelic, it means 'water of life' it's where the word whisky is derived form. Anyway they brought me a glass of something expensive, you ask a bar to bring you something, chances are they'll try and give you something pricey and a Scotch single malt can be an expensive thing, glass of Glenfiddich as it happens, let's just say I saw something in it.

The barmaid returned with two short fat glasses, each with a pool of amber liquid that began about a couple of centimeters form the bottom, with them was a third glass, filled with ice. "It's The Macallan, we didn't have the other one."

Hikaru laughed under his breath. The so called Mejin curse hadn't exactly started with a glass of whisky but it had given Hikaru the chance to review the game he'd just lost, he remembered staying in that bar for a long time, going over things. He'd surprised himself, the acquired taste of a strong flavor didn't usually come so fast. He'd wondered for the first time weather something was trying to tell him something, get his attention with the loss of the game then provide him with an intense sense memory, a marker carved in taste imbedded in his mind. Now it seemed things were coming to a head, it was years later and Hikaru was sitting with his friend, the one person above all else who Hikaru really felt deserved an explanation. A second sign Hikaru felt was the fact that they were approaching a tournament to decide the holder of the Mejin title, disastrous runs of bad luck resolving themselves into a series of matches they would have to fight between themselves.

"So, what do I do with this?" Akira's words bringing Hikaru into the here and now.

"Well if you want you can pour a few drops of water form the melted ice into it, or put a couple of pieces of ice in, or just go for it like that, personally I add a couple drops of water." As he said this he poured a trickle of water form the ice glass into his drink.

"Ok, reckon I'll add a bit of both." Akira bent to his take precise as always.

Hikaru started thinking again, he sipped his drink, he recognized it as the 12 year old, the youngest The Macallan you could get. A part of him was glad they didn't try and bring him an older, more expensive bottle. Then it dawned on him, the third sign, they weren't drinking Glenfiddich, it was true, however The Macallan was from the same region of Scotland, they were both form Spayside, different but form the same place with shared characteristics and distinct differences. Just like himself and Akira, they had both grown up in the city of Tokyo, they both shared many characteristics, such as there ability at Go, and had lots they didn't share as well, you only needed to hear them speaking to each other to work that out. Hikaru felt certain that he was being told by some force to tell Akira the story of Sai. Hikaru was snapped back to the present by the apparent sound of retching, ah, one of our differences he thought to himself.

"This is awful."

"More of an acquired taste I'd say but not for everyone I'll admit." He quietly tipped the remainder of Akira's drink into his own glass.

"Hey" He called to the barmaid, she turned to face him "My friends not used to proper alcohol, can you get him a light beer or a spritser or something."

Akira turned red and mumbled a request for a glass of the house white. Hikaru cursed under his breath, getting this burden off his chest was going to be a lot harder then he thought, but he knew now he had to do it, he knew his old mentor was sending a message from beyond, had been for years and now, somehow, he had to tell his friend. Why now was so important he didn't know, all he knew was that by the time they started playing tomorrow, not only must Akira know the story of Sai, he must believe it too.

Big Bad John

And that's chapter 2, as usual, reviews are welcome.


	3. The Conversation

Wow, it's been a while hasn't it, I really meant to update this sooner but uni started up again, and I seemed to be at work for quite a lot of the time as well. Anyway I'm back and so is my story. Again thanks to everybody who reviewed you've all been great. And of course I own none of this, is that everything, good.

"Look, how about we take this to a table." Hikaru suggested after Akira's drink had arrived.

"Can you see one available?"

"Yea, that one in the far corner just opened up."

They grabbed the glasses and headed for the table, it was big enough for four people but seeing as it was a weeknight and the place wasn't that busy Hikaru doubted anyone would mind two people taking a table with space for four.

They sat down, Akira with his back the bar, Hikaru facing Akira, his back directly to the wall under a plaque witch read:

'In 1873 on this spot, nothing happened'. Akira noticed it and couldn't help chuckling slightly.

"What, you laughing at me?" Irritation creeping into Hikaru's voice now

"No, it's, um, it's over your head anyway." More laughter

"Yeah, because I never could understand any of the great Akira's witticisms."

"No, it's literally over your head, on the wall behind you."

Hikaru swiveled in his chair, read the notice and turned round, he looked at his friend across the table, seeing the funny side. He grinned and shook his head slowly.

"Yeah I guess that's pretty funny actually." Hikaru was laughing himself now.

"So," Akira fixed Hikaru with a stare, "what is it all about."

"What is what all about?"

"Everything, it's like your trying to do everything you can to avoid thinking about this game, watching television in your room, your search for the right bar, your need for strong drink, all of it, what's wrong."

'Well, here it is,' Hikaru thought to himself, 'and I didn't even get to choose when to do it. Why now, why here, is this really what he wants, why does he want me to do this on the eve of the game of both of our lives.' And once more he looked around, people, just ordinary people none of whom could grasp the concept of what had been rammed down Hikaru's throat all those years ago. And he looked at his friend, just another ordinary man, some may say that is massive Go aptitude had set him far apart from the 'ordinary' people but Hikaru knew that Akira would be the first to say that there are many things other ordinary people could do that he couldn't. Hikaru also knew that Akira's mind, while formidable in its Go abilities would never change the world in the way that the great geniuses of history had. Hikaru tried to think of what to say, he felt the presence of his mentor, but knew he wasn't there.

"Umm." He realised that this was not a good start and tried again.

"Well." He realised that this was no better.

'Fuck it.' he thought and decided to launch right into it.

"Well, remember when you first met me?"

"Yea, you were a prat back then, you're a prat now for that matter."

"You went into a major sulk back then because I couldn't hold my stones properly and your calling me a prat, anyway, it doesn't matter, usually I relish nothing more then your witty badinage but honestly now isn't the time."

Akira's face changed, as Hikaru well knew, when the going got serious, Akira let you have your say, Hikaru even thought he noticed a flicker of concern in Akira's face.

"It was just before you and I met, I was rummaging in my grandfathers attic and I found this old Go board."

"O…K…."

"No I am going somewhere with this. Anyway this Go board was home to the spirit of an ancient Go master known as Fujiwara-no-Sai, he claimed to have been a Go instructor to the emperor in the Heian Period. Well, it wasn't possession exactly, he basically just lived in my brain."

"He lived in your brain?"

"Yes, for a couple of years."

"And this spirit taught you how to play go?"

Hikaru felt so relieved to finally be telling someone this he decided for the moment not to acknowledge the edge of sarcasm in Akira's voice.

"He both taught me how to play go and played through me, the first couple of times I beat you, he was pulling the strings. The time you played against 'Sai' online, that was him, we thought if I kept winning it might get noticeable so he played online, didn't really help though. Anyway, you know it was said that to learn at the speed I did I would have needed a full time pro instructor, well, I had one, sort of." Hikaru sighed, a sigh year's in the making.

"And what became of this, instructor." The word had such a weighted emphasis on it that Hikaru thought it might be heavy enough, if they were tied to it, to drown someone. He plunged on regardless, aware what he was saying sounded ridiculous, just happy to be saying it to someone.

"He disappeared, crossed over, evaporated, hell I don't know. He reckoned he'd done all he could for me, that his part in the quest for the divine move was over, that was his ambition, to play the divine move, to take part in the game of the divine move, I think he was disappointed not to be the one to play it but I think he thought that he played a large part in it."

And it was here that Akira, never a man to take giant leaps of faith, surprised Hikaru. He didn't meaty throw the whole story out as a load of rubbish. He seemed, well almost receptive of the idea, this was the last thing Hikaru had expected to happen, especially considering how skeptical he'd seemed at the start, but now something had changed in his face. Hikaru had thought he'd have to do a lot of convincing and wasn't sure where he could start.

Akira looked at Hikaru, "You know, the night before we left to come here, I had a very strange dream. In it you were playing a game of Go with someone, well I couldn't quite see there face but I could tell they were wearing period dress from long ago, centuries it looked like. What made it weird were a couple of things, firstly you were younger, about the age you were when you first met me, and what's more you were playing that game. The game which I now recognise was a teaching game, the first game you and I played, you were playing my moves, he was playing yours."

Hikaru looked at him wide eyed. "Are you sure?"

"Trust me, of all the games I've played, and all the games I've managed to remember from that long ago, that is the one which I'll never forget."

Hikaru was skeptical, the man he knew would never choose to believe something so ridiculous on the basis of a mere dream, no matter how strange. He decided to call him on it. "Ok, so that's pretty strange, but I don't believe you've told me everything yet."

"Oh how well you know me." Akira released the sentence as one long sigh. "When I woke up I decided to think nothing more of it. A bit strange certainly, but nothing major, we've all had strange dreams, then, the thing that really surprised me, I saw that the Go board in my room had been re-arranged into the final position form our game all those years ago."

Hikaru was stunned. "Are you sure you didn't leave it like that before you went to bed or something."

"Positive, I'm using that board to play a game of E-Mail Go with a pro in China, and were barely into the mid-game so there's no way it should have looked like that."

Hikaru couldn't do much, so he slowly drew in his breath, then marveled at how calm Akira had managed to remain, all this time and Hikaru hadn't managed to clock that there was anything wrong. For a second Hikaru was amazed at his friends self control, then, thinking better of it decided that it was just a by-product of his being so uptight the entire time.

"So, you believe me."

"Well, do I really have a choice, after all the seeming possibilities, that you were a split personality, that you had a Go pro on the pay-roll full time, that you were one of those genius autistic guys, and yes I know how stupid that sounds considering the fact that you have no problem with human relationships but trust me, I was willing to believe anything no matter how far fetched it was. I just had to know."

"Well, now you do, do you feel any better, all of your theories and the truth beats them all for sheer unlikeness, but it's the truth and he didn't even allow me to get worked up trying to convince you of it, even now he has to lend a helping hand." Hikaru started softly chuckling to himself. "But then, that's the kind of guy he always was." He raised his glass, brought it back down to his lips and finished what was left of the contents. Letting out a breath he physically seemed to deflate, then he straitened his back and looked across the table at his friend.

"Well, do you want to head back?."

Akira smiled, "I think we have time for one more."

Hikaru ginned as well. "This rounds on me."

An hour and one more drink later Hikaru and Akira strolled through the hotel doors, both were laughing and looked relaxed.

"So, how long until we have to get up for tomorrows game?" Hikaru remembered that he never had a head for precise details.

"Umm." Akira looked at his watch. "About 7 and a half hours."

They stepped into the lift and started heading up.

"Shit, I always try and make a point of getting at least eight."

"Well I've heard it said that you should sleep in multiples of three. Six, nine, twelve hours although I personally have never done that."

"Not even back in the long lost days of your youth, come on man sleeping for ridiculous lengths of time is part of that."

"Maybe for most people, but it's not for me."

"Well, so long as we aren't sleeping three hours I should be fine.

At that point the lift opened its doors and they stepped out into the corridor.

"Well, I'm down that way." Hikaru said pointing.

"And I'm up that way." Akira pointed the other way

"Well, see you tomorrow." Hikaru offered his hand.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow." Akira grasped it and shook, a simple friendly gesture but an important one, for both knew that the next day they would be meeting as rivals and friendship would have to take the back seat, if only for a day.

Big Bad John

And that's chapter 3, things mover inexorably toward the game and the next chapter will be the last. Like many fan writers I like feedback, so please, if you read this, leave some, cheers.


	4. The Game

Ok, I know it's been months, I thought it best to hang on until after that university semester finished, then I thought I'd hang on until the New Year. I've also been working a lot recently but enough excuses it's time to finish this, this is the final chapter, I hope everyone likes it.

(Of course I don't own HNG, but considering how long it's taken me to update this that may be a good thing)

Hikaru strolled up the hall to his room. He had to check which one he was in but that was nothing out of the ordinary he couldn't remember the last time he'd stayed in a hotel and managed to remember the room number. The key-card dropped smoothly into its scanner and a soft click signaled that he was free to enter. Hikaru walked over a small hold all lying on a couch against the opposite wall, he unzipped it and started rummaging through it's contents, reaching down to the bottom of the bag he found what he was looking for, a small, portable, travel alarm clock. He chuckled to himself as he set it for eight o'clock the next morning, imaging Akira no doubt springing bolt upright in bed come the correct time by sheer willpower. Whatever, he'd take a little insurance any day - he thought to himself as he placed the clock on the top of a small chest of draws next to the bed. He briefly debated about flicking the TV on again but decided against it, he was tired, why fight it. He kicked off his trainers, hauled off his t-shirt, collapse into bed and was asleep in seconds, the whisky he'd drank earlier in the evening helping to send him off all the faster.

Akira Walked to his room in his usual careful gate. Sure what he'd just been told was weird, sure it was, when looked at objectively totally unbelievable, especially for the usually logical Akira but the evidence mounted up. If truth be told he was just glad the whole story was out finally out, he'd never admit it but he had lost none of the desire to know it, whatever it would turn out to be. The fact that it had turned out to be the fault of a ghost living in Hikaru's brain didn't make much difference to him, at least he knew, and that would make him sleep easier. He approaching the door to his room now he slipped the key-card out of the inside pocket of his jacket and slipped it into the lock. It was only when he got into the room that he realised how tired he was, that surprised him, it hadn't been a particularly long or strenuous day but he was ready for some sleep none the less. He didn't need an alarm, he knew his internal clock was pretty good at this - he'd never missed a match yet. He lay down and was asleep in seconds.

Hikaru opened his eyes, he appeared to be standing on, well, air. He looked down and registered that he had shoes on. A vague memory, he looked around, swirling mist, points of light in a sky a couple of shades shy of night. Remembering the last time he had seen Sai he smiled.

"So it's another lucid dream is it." He turned around and saw exactly what he had expected to, his old friend and mentor stand on just as much nothing as he was.

"well, I told him, that's what you wanted isn't it?" Sai just smiled but didn't say anything.

"Ha, I've grown." Hikaru said looking at his extended limbs as if for the first time.

"You're still exactly the same, I guess spirits don't age." The smile stayed fixed on Sai's face.

"Well, I'll bet that it was probably for the best." Sai grinned wider, then opened his mouth.

"BEEP BEEP BEEP."

And with that Hikaru was snapped back in to the present, he rolled over and switched of his alarm clock. Well, he's nothing if not consistent, Hikaru thought to himself and began to prepare for his match.

Akira awoke, uncomfortable and with an ache in his joints, he looked around him, he was stretched out on an uncomfortable row of seats in what looked like a hospital waiting room. He remembered when his father had died, the endless waiting, the feeling that any news would do, the feeling of just wanting to know sick of being kept in the dark. Of course he had only been told that his father had died when all hope was lost, after all, any doctor would tell you not to deliver the worst unless you absolutely have to. He wondered what he was doing there, didn't he have to be somewhere, somewhere important. A door opened, Akira got to his feet, ready to inquire as to just what the hell was going on. He sat back down again quickly when he saw a figure approaching, a familiar figure.

"Father." He stammered. "What, what's happening, you're dead."

"Gone form this world yes, but quite comfortable in another."

"What."

"I wanted to wish you luck, I know you'll make me proud son. And tell Hikaru his mentor plays a first class game."

"So it's all true then."

"That depends on weather you choose to take this as a sign or a dream. And while we may be fine, neither of us have found peace yet, but it can't be far off now. Play well son, you're going to produce something special."

The figure turned around and closed the door, it shut with a thunderous bang, Akira sat up in his bed In the hotel room and looked at his watch, he smiled, his internal clock had done him proud once again.

The hotel had a conference facility, although that morning they were using it as a staging post, pictures were being taken of the players and questions asked of them. Soon enough though it was time to go, each had a car with a driver to take them to the venue. One last chance for the press to take pictures as they walked through the door and they were gone.

Sitting across form one another the familiar go board between them they each felt the old feelings of rivalry well up, they each, after all wanted to win despite there friendship. Hikaru won the right to play the first stone and brought it down to the board with an authoritative click, Akira responded and the battle was underway…

The day's session was long over, but the adjudicator still sat at his table, looking at the game record. The players had long since gone, they had only played one game before the days session was over and afterwards had left laughing like the oldest of friends. They looked for all the world like they didn't have a care in the world anymore, they probably didn't. The adjudicator just couldn't tear his eyes away from the sheet, it had happened, finally it had been done, and he had say there and watched it. The players had both shown remarkable changes in there playing styles. Hikaru played as if he was no longer chained to some deep truth, his play was, more invigorated, almost carefree. As for Akira, his play was almost the opposite - he played like a man who had been let into the secret of the universe. A knowing look on his face the entire time his play was both ancient and ageless. The results were unmistakenable if you knew what you were looking at and the adjudicator had seen enough games to know exactly what he was looking at.

"It's, it's the divine move." He stammered aloud again despite the room being empty.

Somewhere behind this world, two old souls found peace.

And that's it, the end of the story, as usual feedback is appreciated and thanks to everyone who has reviewed already.


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